Recognizing Our Faults

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas Hatorah ׂׂ(www.bircas.org)

Parashas Shoftim concludes with the mitzvah of eglah arufah, the calf whose neck is removed. This mitzvah was performed when the murdered body of a Jew was found, and no one knew who the killer was. Measurements were taken to determine which town was closest to the scene of the murder. The elders of that town then begged forgiveness from the victim for not having been more hospitable to him. Finally, a calf was slaughtered, achieving the atonement that the town required.

Rav Leib Chasman points out a curious element of this mitzvah: it was only done when the identity of the murderer was unknown. Why should knowing the identity of the murderer remove the need for atonement?

One might say that when we know who the murderer is, we can punish him, and his execution achieves the needed atonement. Rav Chasman rejects this answer, because we see that frequently a known murderer was not put to death. Sometimes there were no valid witnesses at the scene of the crime, or he was not warned as the halachah requires. Moreover, the Gemara (Makkos 7a) describes that the Sanhedrin would try to find ways not to issue a death sentence. A Sanhedrin that executed more than one man in seventy years was seen as a “Killer Sanhedrin.” Yet, the mitzvah of eglah arufah did not apply any time the murderer was not put to death.

Rav Chasman’s answer is a revelation into human nature. When a town discovers that a murder took place and the identity of the murderer is known, each person wonders if there was something he could have done to prevent it. People feel a sense of guilt, and this leads to a wave of introspection that initiates the repentance process. This process of hakaras hacheit (recognizing one’s flaws) enables the townspeople to correct their ways. The entire town will look different after such an incident.

On the other hand, when no one knows who the murderer is, people feel a sense of distance from the act, thinking that the death was unavoidable, or worse, that it was caused by the dead person’s carelessness. No introspection is done, and hakaras hacheit never happens. The town will look exactly the same as it always has. This is why the mitzvah of eglah arufah is needed.

Hakaras hacheit, concludes Rav Chasman, is an essential step to repenting.

When a person lives casually, taking life as it comes, he will never reach hakaras hacheit. Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezer states that this is the reason that the shofar is blown each morning in Elul—to wake people up from their “sleep.” Sleep in this sense refers to our tendency to go along with our routine and our habits, without ever stopping to consider if we are doing anything wrong. However, as the Day of Judgment follows the month of Elul, waking up from this sleep is crucial.

The Gemara (Kiddushin 20a) even says that at times we know that we are doing something wrong, but we’ve gotten used to it and are desensitized. This also falls under the category of “sleep.” This is referred to by the statement, “It becomes as if it is permissible to him. ibid”

The Rambam (Hilchos Dei’os 2:1) notes that spiritual ailments can be likened to physical ailments. The Rebbe of Slonim infers that the main point of any cure, physical or spiritual, is the diagnosis. Some physical ailments can be taken care of with an aspirin and a good night’s sleep, while others require a complex regimen of exercise and medication or even an operation. Similarly, the diagnosis—hakaras hacheit—is critical to the repentance process, as it clarifies what the process of repentance needs to entail. Sometimes, resolving to refrain from a bad practice and saying a sincere vidui (acknowledging one’s wrongdoing aloud) is sufficient. Other times, a drastic change in one’s outlook or lifestyle is needed. When dealing with bad character traits like haughtiness, anger, jealousy, and lust, nothing less than amputation will suffice, because avoiding the negative deeds will only cause the disease to resurface somewhere else.

Rav Itzele Peterburger would say in the name of his rebbe, Rav Yisrael Salanter, that we should live the whole year as if it is Elul. Still, during Elul we should work even harder to improve. During Elul, he and his students would learn for eighteen hours straight, twelve hours of Gemara and six hours of mussar (introspection). They would focus on character traits that needed work, telling themselves aloud what Chazal said to address the issue that they were working on. The words were said with emotion and fervor, in an effort to uproot the negative trait entirely.

One Elul, the Brisker Rav was outside taking his daily walk. A Jew approached him and asked how he was feeling.

“We have to do teshuvah (repent),” replied the Rav.

“The Brisker Rav also has to do teshuvah?” asked the man.

When the Brisker Rav heard this he got upset. “What sort of question is that? You don’t know that every Jew has to do teshuvah? Anyone who examines his ways will find things that must be improved. Why would you think such a thing about anybody?”

May we be zocheh to examine our ways, discover what needs correcting, and do a proper teshuvah!